Before, There Was You

by Kit Harlow

  Moving back had allowed us to resume our pre-Boston routines immediately. And on the surface, life went right back to the way it had been. David and I looked like the picture-perfect couple. Our home life was great. Our social life was mediocre, but it always had been. We came home, made dinner together, complained about our day, and cuddled while watching mindless television. Some nights we had sex. Others, David passed out completely dead to the world while I stayed awake, reflecting on happier times.

  I'd become the woman he married, slipping back into the role without so much as a misstep. It was nothing more than a facade crafted out of the desire to make things right and the knowledge that my life would be a sad echo of what it could have been. I was utterly resigned to my fate, so I embraced my role as dutiful wife. I could've won an Oscar for my performance.

  My job was exactly the way it had been before we'd moved to Boston. Billy tried to take pity on me, giving me the most interesting assignments he could find, but in this small city, they were few and far between. Mostly, I edited sports columns, wrote about star athletes, and all manner of boring material.

  It amazed me that I used to be content with this life. I stared at my phone and flipped through my pictures absently. Katie was in most of them. It made the night more painful, but the pain felt right; The pain let me feel alive again. At least I felt something.

  With a sigh, I leaned against the wood trim of the countertop and stared out the window by our front door. It was a perfectly clear night. Summer had rolled in with a vengeance and, though we had air conditioning, the night was stifling. Deciding the temperature was about the same inside and out, I slipped onto the porch, taking my tea with me, and let the moonlight wash over me. A slight breeze moved my hair, cooling the sweat on my face.

  On a whim, I started to text Katie. It was the same message I'd wanted to send for the past two months. "I miss you." I had several drafts saved. I never got the courage to send them. I stared at the text screen, trying to will my finger to press send.

  The phone started buzzing in my hand. At the late hour, I expected a drunk dial from Nate or Stephanie. When the caller ID read "Kat," my heart pounded against my ribs. I slid the answer bar over.

  "Hey," I whispered, holding my breath as I waited for her voice.

  Silence on the other end.

  "Hello?" I said again. Please don't let this be a pocket dial, I begged any force that listened. Again nothing. I closed my eyes and started shaking again. "Katie?" I wanted her to say anything...just something that wasn't silence.

  The silence stretched for what felt like minutes before she said anything. "I thought you'd be asleep and I'd get your voicemail. I just wanted to hear your voice," she said quietly.

  I smiled. "How are you?"

  She sighed. "Let's not do the question thing. Just talk at me. Tell me what you're looking at."

  I closed my eyes against the wave of emotion. I could do this. "I'm looking at a tree. An oak tree, full of leaves that are golden in the street light. The house across the street has two round windows in the attic. One has broken panes and almost looks like a spider web. The whole thing looks like a haunted house, which is fitting. I live on Graves Ave." Katie chuckled.

  I looked down the street. "One of my neighbors is coming home. He looks drunk and can't walk a straight line. And it's Tuesday...there was a special at Packard’s."

  "Are they still running Tequila Tuesday?" she asked. I could hear the smile in her voice.

  "Yeah, and Fireball Friday...our dart board is still there. So are your initials." Katie won dart tournament after tournament while we were in college and she'd carved her initials into the border of the dart board she always played at.

  “Oh, and I finally started working on that novel I’ve been talking about since senior year,” I said brightly.

  “That’s great!” Her enthusiasm and support seemed genuine and it only made me tear up.

  I listened to her breathing through the small speaker. "I miss you," I whispered, fighting the lump in my throat that threatened to choke me.

  "I miss you, too," she said after a moment of silence.

  I brushed them away absently, trying to be as quiet as possible so I could hear anything she had to say.

  "I shouldn't have called," she said sullenly.

  I shook my head, only belatedly realizing she couldn't see the gesture. "Are you okay?" I asked as sincerely as I could.

  "No," she croaked. I knew I should hang up, but I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye. "Are you?"

  My voice caught in my throat and I swallowed hard. "No." I wondered if I'd ever be okay...I doubted it sincerely.

  "Liz," she said firmly.

  "Yeah?"

  She paused and drew a shaky breath. "I need to move on."

  Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision and clogging my throat. "I know," I agonized. We couldn't keep doing this to each other. We had to let go. I had to let go.

  "It's not fair to either of us," she said gently, voice strong and sure.

  I sniffled loudly. "Kat," I said through the tears. I couldn't tell her I loved her and that I hated myself for what I'd done. "Take care of yourself...please?" I begged. The destructive tendencies worried me. I imagined her nodding, sitting on her couch in the dark. I could hear her breathing and sighed. "I wish I could take it all back," I whispered, eyes stinging and voice tight.

  The line went dead. I set my phone down and sighed heavily, doing my best to keep the tears at bay. It was my nightly routine. Tonight was no different.

  Chapter 19

  Look Park was quiet, one of the perks of the early autumn in Northampton, and one of the main reasons I was seeking refuge here rather than in town. I huddled at the base of a tall oak, soaking in the humid shade and tried to forget my problems, if even for that one day. Hell, I'd settle for a minute—one single second—without thinking about my decisions to leave Boston, to stay with David. I wanted to just pretend that nothing had happened, that we'd never left my small college town.

  I tried to focus on my book propped open in my lap, but my thoughts kept getting the better of me. I wanted to know what was going on in Boston, with the magazine, with James. More importantly, I wanted to know what Katie was doing, but I refused to acknowledge that thought.

  I gave up and put my book aside, contenting myself with people watching. There were families out playing, couples picnicking, and a group of kids playing frisbee. I faded into the background to watch. The frisbee players kept going, playing rough in a way that almost resembled a rugby match. It was entertaining to watch until a disc came flying towards my head. I ducked and it thwacked into the trunk where my head had been resting.

  A tall and slender man came jogging towards me, apologizing with every step. I laughed it off and assured him I was okay. He smiled and walked away with one more apology. He and his friends moved further down the field, giving me some more space. One girl stayed behind, and stared at me for a few seconds before shouting at the group that she'd be right there. I watched her come closer and my heart fell when I realized it was Emily.

  "Not going anywhere?" She asked with barely contained rage. I watched her fists tighten at her sides as she powered towards me. Her face was red and splotchy. "You fucking promised me! You fucking bitch!" She stopped two feet away from me. I thought about standing, but I wasn't sure what her reaction would be.

  Em glared at me, shaking as she stood there. I fought the urge to ask her how Katie was, what she was doing, where she was. I wanted to know, but it would seem indelicate and wrong. Instead, I sat there, willing to take her abuse. I deserved it.

  "Say something!" She shouted.

  I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," I said lamely. It didn't even come close to rectifying the situation.

  "You're sorry?" She sputtered. "Is that all you have to say?" She slammed her fist into the tree. I'd never seen her this angry.

  I could understand where she was coming from; I had promised her directly--we'd been clo
se. Still, something in me snapped. All the exhaustion and anger came to the front, and I lost my ability to be polite.

  "No," I shouted back at her. "It's not all I have to say, but it's all I can say!" I stood up, angry and hurting. "I'm living in Northampton, with a husband I don't care enough about, in a job I hate, knowing I left behind the one person that I love more than anything in the world. I have to live with myself knowing that I fucked up beyond words! Again!" I brushed the tears from my cheeks, only half aware that they had started falling. "So, yes, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I broke my promise! I'm sorry I fucked up! I’m sorry I'm even alive right now!" Emily's face lost some of its harshness.

  She leaned against the trunk, anger gone leaving her looking exhausted and vulnerable. I stood there, panting and crying, trying to calm down. She looked at me and took a deep, shaky breath.

  "I thought you left because you were just...using her," she whispered.

  My anger crumbled and I felt worn, drawn thin. "I left because I'm stupid," I said simply. "When David found out about us, I was a coward. He wanted to work things out, so I agreed to give it a second chance. I thought he deserved it; he's not a bad person."

  "And Katie is?" Emily asked, one eyebrow raised, voice harsh and pointed.

  I took a deep breath and thought about that for a second. "I married him," I said solemnly. It wasn't the entire reason, but it was the gist.

  "I'm not proud of myself," I said bitterly and slunk to the base of the tree. She looked down at me and followed suit. We sat in silence for a few moments, neither of us looking at the other.

  "How is she?" I asked; it was a whisper, but it felt like a shout. My voice was gruff, hoarse and it shocked me. It had been a few months since our late-night phone call, and I'd thought about her every day.

  Em sighed and leaned her head against the bark. "Bad," she said simply. I nodded, unwilling to pry more than that.

  "She won't talk to me...at least not really." She rubbed at the palm of her hand, massaging it. "She just says that she's fine, that she's been busy at work. She doesn't want me to worry about her, but," Emily inclined her head. "It makes me worry more."

  Those responses with Katie never meant what they did on the surface. If she wasn't confiding in her sister, things were worse than I imagined. Things were hard for me, but they were worse for her.

  "Do you think she's using again?" I asked, barely above a whisper. Emily nodded and bit her lip. It wasn't easy to talk about, but she looked like she really needed to. After all, she'd been the one to find Katie overdosing last time.

  She stared up at the sky and sighed heavily. "That night she called you, she was in the hospital." Em teared up and fixed her gaze on the branches above us. "She called an ambulance when she realized she was overdosing." She smirked at me. "Good thing she could recognize the signs for herself."

  "Fuck." I leaned my head against the tree and studied the leaves. "I just thought she was drunk...she promised she wasn't going down that road again." Emily shrugged. The guilt that wracked my mind was all consuming. I shouldn't blame myself for her actions, but I did.

  Em sighed. "You were the first thing she asked about." There was more than a hint of accusation in her voice.

  "You should have told me." I sighed. "I would have come back. I should have been there."

  "Do you honestly think that would make things any better? Would you have left David for her and come back for good, or would it be a temporary thing again?" Emily scowled but I had no answer for her.

  I blinked back the sting, but we both knew the answer. I'd made my choice. "I miss her, Em." The leaves moved in the wind, rustling against their branches. "I thought it would feel like last time—that I'd get over it, move on. Instead, I feel like I can't breathe."

  Em looked at me, like she was really seeing me for the first time in a long time, like she was studying me. "How are you?" I wondered what she saw in my face. Did I look as tired as I felt? I was nothing more than a shade of the woman I had been--the woman her sister loved. I was...empty.

  The compassion in her voice and concern in her eyes only made me tear up more. I shook my head and let them fall, not caring who saw or that Emily was witness to my emotions.

  "Slowly forgetting what it feels like to be whole," I replied more to myself than Emily. I turned and looked at her, forcing a smile out of habit. "I'm taking it minute by minute," I said honestly.

  Of all the people in my life, she was the only one I could be completely honest with right now. She was the only one that would potentially understand. And she was the last person I expected to take an interest.

  "Sometimes I think I can be happy again. I'll go for a full hour, feeling okay and normal. Then I'll see or hear something that makes me think of her, and I'm back to square one."

  She squeezed my hand gently. "You fucked up, Liz," she said softly.

  I smiled at her, for the first time feeling a genuine smile since moving back. "I know," I scratched at my nose. Damned frayed nerves! "I wish I'd never agreed to move back. Hell, I wish I'd never moved to Boston. At least then Katie was okay."

  She sighed and shook her head. "She wasn't really okay though," Emily said softly. "She was sober, yes, but...I hadn't seen her smile in years." She rubbed at her cheeks. "She may be using again, but she's also feeling things. She's more herself this time."

  We sat there together, both of us missing the way things used to be, though for different reasons.

  "Shouldn't you catch up with your friends?" I asked after a while.

  Em grinned softly. "I think I'd rather get a drink," she said bluntly. I agreed and hauled her to her feet. We hopped a bus to downtown and took up a booth at the local cocktail bar, sinking into the deep overstuffed leather seats.

  It was neutral territory. I'd never come here with Katie as we preferred cheaper venues, but Emily and I wanted something quiet and dark. I was grateful, since there were no memories to block out, no reminders of Katie lurking in the corners. It was dark and cool, much like a cellar and it was exactly the kind of place I needed at the moment. She ordered a fruity concoction while I settled on a strong bourbon. My tastes ran towards the hard stuff now; I drank to forget, to deaden the pain.

  We talked of nothing and everything and for the first time in a long time, I felt more like myself. Em had been like a sister to me, and I was glad to have her company again. And at least I could take comfort in the fact that one person in the Masterson family didn't hate me. She caught me up on her work, her love life, and everything in between. It was wonderful and by the end of our second drink, I felt more alive. The pain was there, but this time, I welcomed it. I couldn't push it away anymore.

  "Thanks, kid," I said across the table during a lull in our conversation. I meant it. That she was sitting with me made me feel closer to Katie, closer to how things used to be and I missed it fiercely.

  Emily looked at me intently. "Look," she said gently. "You know you can call me anytime." She looked at me intently. "Really," she insisted.

  I smiled. It was nice knowing she was still my friend, in spite of everything. "Thanks," I said sincerely. On an impulse, I asked "Are you going to tell Katie you've seen me?"

  Emily sighed and thought about it. "If she asks," she stated simply. It wasn't in her nature to lie--at least, not about important things.

  "If she does..." I started.

  "What do you want me to tell her? That you're happy?" She wasn't quite bitter, but the sharpness of her voice still made me wince.

  "I want you to tell her the truth." It wouldn't help things, but she might be happier knowing I was hurting too. "Don't sugarcoat it. I miss her. Every minute of every day, I miss her."

  Emily thought about that for a minute before raising her confused face from her drink. "I really don't understand you two." When she looked at me, I had the distinct impression she was playing with our past like puzzle pieces, trying to decide how they all fit together.

  "You never want to walk away completely, do you? Either
of you?" she asked.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. She was right; I never fully moved on from Katie the first time and now I'd hold on to those memories for the rest of my life, regretting my decision to be with David every day. I'd made a decision that was incredibly unfair to all of us. Every day, I was miserable. It wasn't how I wanted to live my life. I prayed it wasn't how Katie was living hers.

  Emily leaned forward and stared at me. “Why don’t you just leave him? You’re miserable.”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, I love him, but I’m not in love with him.”

  “Because you’re in love with my sister,” she finished for me.

  I couldn’t meet her eyes.

  “Go back to Boston. Knock on her door. That’s all it would take,” she said sincerely. “She misses you just as much and watching the two of you trying to ignore the fact that you love each other is painful.”

  I bit my lip. “You don’t get it—we can’t. I can’t,” I finished.

  Em sighed heavily and looked at her watch. "I should head home." She stood up, slung her purse over her shoulder, and bit her lip like she was working up the courage to say something to me. Instead, she shifted it to a smile. "Gimme a call next week. We can grab lunch or something," she said lightly. I promised I would and she headed out the door, craftily leaving me with the tab. I walked home, enjoying the feel of the night air on my face and tried to forget, once again, how my life was turning out.

  Northampton was full of memories for me. I stopped and stared at the old Thai place at the corner of Main Street and could almost see her sitting in the window. We ate there every year on our anniversary, not because it was great, but because it was where we had our first date. It was where she first said she loved me. It was special. I never let David take me because of that. As far as he knew, I hated Thai food. It was a carefully crafted excuse.